Biff vs Manure
by The Hobbit Lass
Summary: It looks like Biff has finally lost his marbles. After being traumatized by manure for so many years, he finally decides to take action. Will Hill Valley aid him in his cause or will they just brand him a lunatic...? Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future or Biff or any other characters. Which is too bad, because if I owned Marty then I would be the happiest girl on earth.

* * *

Biff vs. Manure

Biff Tannen was absolutely sick of it. Everywhere he went, he encountered manure. Biff hated manure. He was so traumatized that if somebody even mentioned manure, he would make a high-pitched squeaking noise and his body would go rigid.

One day, he was interviewed by a reporter who worked for the magazine _Psychological Disturbances Weekly_. "Now, Mr. Tannen, you say you hate manure."

An odd squeaking noise rose out of Biff's throat and he sat stiffly in his chair. His hands clenched into fists. "I hate manure!"

The reporter tried to be patient. "Yes, I know that. Now what is it that made you hate manure so much? Any bad childhood experiences?"

"Well, yes," said Biff. "When I was six years old, my grandma accidentally put manure into my sandbox instead of sand. It really bothered me and it caused me to fear sand too." He stood up in anger. "And grandma owed me one hundred and fifty dollars damage to my sandbox! She still hasn't paid it!"

The reporter took some notes and pushed Biff back into his seat. "There, there, Mr. Tanner. I know you're upset."

Biff let out a huge sob. "I don't think she loved me! The manure... And the damage... Theone hundred and fiftydollars!"

"Take deep breaths, Mr. Tannen. Deep breaths."

Biff did as he was told (for once in his life) and finally calmed down.

The reporter held his pencil ready. "Are there any more incidents in which you had traumatic encounters with manure?"

Biff nodded. "When I was in high school a new bully came and he made me drive into a truckload of manure! It got all over me and even got into my favorite underwear! The pair with the bunnies on it!"

"I see," said the reporter. "Who was this bully?"

"I think his name was Calvin or Marty Klein or something. He was the meanest guy I'd ever met. He even punched me in the face and stole my favorite Oh LaLa magazine!" Biff started to sob into his hands. "I never meant him any harm! All I did was call him a butthead and he set out on revenge!"

The reporter scribbled something down on his clipboard. "Had this Klein person done anything else to cause psychological disorders- er, I mean, troubling experiences?"

"Yes!" Biff continued. "He also got manure all over the television I was carrying in my car and it ruined it! I couldn't watch the Howdy Doody show anymore! It was my favorite show!"

The reporter raised an eyebrow at the idea of this man watching Howdy Doody when he was in high school. Maybe Biff was more sensitive that he let people know. "Now have you had any recent dealings with manure?"

Biff took his face out of his hands. "I dream about it almost every night! It oozes in through the doors and windows of my house and tries to get me! I try spraying it with a fire extinguisher but it just doesn't go away. It just keeps coming for me..." He buried his face in his hands again and shuddered with terror at the memories.

"That's, er, very interesting." The reporter was having trouble keeping a straight face. "Well, that's all I need, Mr. Tannen. I'll leave you now." He gathered up his things and left the house.

Five minutes later, Biff took his hands away from his face and stood up. "Manure has made my life a living hell! It's time for me to get revenge!" And he sat back down and plotted ways to cause the downfall of his enemy.

oOoOoOoOo

The very next day, Biff stood outside on the sidewalk holding a picket sign in each hand. One of them said "Down With Manure!" and the other said "Manure Stinks". Biff paced up and down the street chanting, "Down with manure! Manure is the enemy and it's ruining all of our lives! Join me in the fight against manure!"

George McFly poked his head out of his front door and stared at his neighbor. "Biff, what are you doing?"

Biff instantly became meek and obedient just as he always does when in the presence of a McFly. "N-nothing, George- er, Mr. McFly! I was just doing some protesting. I could go somewhere else if it's bothering you!"

"Not at all," said George. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to watch my favorite science fiction television program. They're doing a special on aliens invading Earth!" He disappeared inside the house.

As the day progressed, Biff continued to pace and chant and wave his picket signs, not giving up in his battle against the manure. Sadly, nobody really paid any attention to him.

"Come on, you buttheads!" Biff yelled. "Don't you want to defeat the manure and make sure it never rears its ugly head in Hill Valley ever again?"

"What are you talking about, Biff?" Marty arrived on his skateboard and was eyeing Biff's picket signs with a rather disturbed look on his face.

Biff's shoulders slumped and he hastily set down his picket signs. "I'm sorry, Marty! Am I bothering you?"

"No," said Marty. "But what are you doing?"

"Well I'm leading a revolt against manure!" He picked his picket signs back up. "Do you want to help? You can be the first person aiding me in my cause!"

Marty shook his head. "Er, I have to practice my guitar. See you later, Biff." He quickly ran intohis house and shut the door as fast as possible.

His father was sitting in front of the television and had his eyes excitedly glued to the screen as aliens as zapped at each other and held humans hostage in their space crafts. "Biff still out there?"

"Yeah," said Marty. "I think he's finally snapped."

"That Biff, what a character..." George murmured. He suddenly jumped. "Oh my gosh! The government is chasing the aliens! Marty, you've got to see this!"

But Marty had disappeared off to his room. George didn't notice and continued to avidly stare at the screen. He was going to damage his eyes if he didn't start blinking soon.

Biff, meanwhile, was starting to get frustrated. "What is the matter with you people? This is for a good cause!"

A little boy rode by on his scooter and looked at Biff. "You're a loser."

Biff shook his fist at him. "Well same to you, butthead!" The little boy rode away.

Biff threw his picket signs across the street, where they hit a stop sign and were promptly run over by a truck. "I give up."

George opened the door of his house. Apparently, his television show was over. Or maybe it was commercial. The world will never know. "Biff, if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything!"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" Biff asked, forgetting to act humble in the presence of George.

George scratched his head. "Hmm... Some kid named Calvin told me that a long time ago. Well, see you later, Biff." He disappeared back inside his house, probably to eat some Rice Krispies or some peanut brittle.

The scary thing was, Biff actually decided to take George's advice. "If I can't get other people involved, I'll have to do it all myself."

He spent the rest of the day putting up fencing all over the outside of his house, bars on all the doors and windows, and an alarm system so he could be warned about any approaching manure. It cost him quite a lot of money and he would have to do a lot of car waxing to make it up, but he didn't care. His house was protected. At least he hoped.

He was sitting on the sofa in his living room and had his arms stubbornly crossed. "Come and get me, manure!"

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Biff, the local news channel was doing a live report right in front of his house.

"Biff Tannen, resident of Hill Valley, has apparently waged a war against manure," said the reporter woman, standing on Biff's lawn. "As you can see here, he has protected his entire house against it and probably will never come outside again, by the looks of it."

Biff yawned. Hiding from manure sure was boring. He looked around for the remote and finally found it buried beneath an ancient copy of Oh LaLa. He turned on the television and was shocked to see his own house on the screen. "What the hell? Is the manure on to me already?"

The reporter woman on the news continued speaking. "Acquaintances of Mr. Tannen seem to worry about his mental health due to his strange behavior."

The camera turned to George, who was standing nearby. "George McFly, science fiction author, reports seeing Mr. Tannen protesting against manure and also saw him putting up the protection on his house," the reporter went on. "Mr. McFly, do you have to anything to say?"

George looked around uneasily. "Could you make this fast? Science Fiction Theater is going to be on in less than ten minutes."

Biff watched the screen in outrage. "Now they're trying to turn McFly against me! The nerve of that manure!"

The camera was still on George and the reporter woman asked, "Mr. McFly, do you have anything to say about Biff Tannen?" She held her microphone up to George's face.

"Er... Biff, what a character." George then nervously checked his watch and took off running.

"Well, you heard it," said the reporter. "Even great authors like George McFly are noticing the increasingly disturbed behavior of Biff Tannen."

Biff grabbed the remote and shut off the television. "I can't believe this! Now all of Hill Valley is going to think I'm crazy and it's all the manure's fault!"

He got up from the couch, undid all the bolts and locks on his door, got past the security system, and redid all the bolts and locks once he was outside the house. The van that the news reporters had come in was sitting in front of his house and was just about to take off.

Biff waved his arms in the air. "Hey you! Stay there!" He ran over to the van and the man in the driver's seat rolled down his window. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked Biff.

"I'm Biff Tannen and I-"

The man's eyes widened. "_Biff Tannen? _The crazy man with the manure bloodlust?"

"Hey, don't you call me crazy, butthead!" Biff was getting more and more agitated. "I know that the manure has you spying on me. Leave me alone or I'll do something drastic to each and every one of you!"

The man just stared at him. "Er... I'm afraid I'm going to have to get some help for you, sir."

"Help? What do you mean? If you mean you're going to be a turncoat and join my side instead then that's great!"

"No, that's not quite what I mean. Is there a phone booth around here?"

"Yeah, there's one right on the corner over there." Biff pointed. "But I don't see how that's going to help me, unless you're going to call up the manure and tell it all to get out of town!"

"I'll be right back." The man opened the door of the van and went into the phone booth. He picked up the phone, dialed a number, and spent several minutes in there. He finally came out and got back into his van. "Well, Mr. Tannen, help is on the way."

Biff got down on his knees. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, sir! You've saved my life!"

"Whatever," the man muttered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get to the news station." He drove away.

Biff got to his feet and walked up to his house and started pulling all of the fencing and security off of it. A few minutes later, another van drove up in front of his house. It was white and had "Hill Valley Mental Institution" painted on it. A couple of blank-faced men wearing white coats came out of it and walked towards Biff.

"Are you Biff Tannen?" one of the men asked.

Biff turned around. "Who the hell are you?"

"I said, are you Biff Tannen?" the man repeated patiently.

"Yeah," said Biff. "What's it to you?"

The two men approached Biff and each of them took Biff by an arm. "We are from the Hill Valley Mental Institution. We received a phone call saying that you need help and belong in one of our wards. Come along, Mr. Tannen." They dragged Biff over to the van.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Biff sputtered, struggling to get away. "I've told people a million times, I'm not crazy!"

"They're always in denial," one of the men said, shaking his head sadly. "It's alright, Mr. Tannen. Nothing is going to hurt you if you come with us. You'll be surrounded by protective, high-security walls and no manure will be able to reach you."

Biff stopped struggling and the men relaxed their grips on him. "Really? Then take me there right away!" He broke free of the men's grasps and ran inside the van.

"Well that was easy." The white-coated men got into the front of the van and took off.

And that is what happened to Biff Tannen and his fight against manure. The moral: If you want to stay out of the nuthouse, remember that manure is your friend, no matter how horrible it may smell.

The end.

* * *

Please be kind and review! If you don't review it shall mess up the Space-Time Continuum and acataclysm will occur! You don't want the world as you know it to end, do you? 


End file.
